


Safe as Houses

by theoriginalicecreamqueen



Series: Coldflash Week 2017B [6]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Coldflash Week 2017, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 09:06:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12339663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoriginalicecreamqueen/pseuds/theoriginalicecreamqueen
Summary: Barry just wants to escape from Eobard, however he can. It would've been easy if the criminal whose safe house he's squatting in didn't take such offense to his methods.





	Safe as Houses

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has some heavy suicidal references, so please read with caution.

Barry was being selfish. Joe, Iris, and his dad were all going to be so upset when they found what was left of him. They were still looking. Eobard - or Harrison Wells or whatever the hell he was going by that day - told him that they were, and while that monster had done many things to hurt him, he hadn’t lied. Not once in the whole time Barry was in his grasp.

 

Barry wouldn’t be able to see them again anyways, so what did it matter? Being around him was too dangerous these days. Hell, being Barry was too dangerous.

 

He hadn’t been able to leave the shitty abandoned warehouse he had been holded up in for days. Barry had been lucky he found this place, and that been able to fly over the booby-traps on the main floor to the fully-furnished, fully-stocked safehouse carefully hidden in the warehouse’s basement. It almost certainly belonged to some sort of criminal or super-spy, but it obviously hadn’t been used for a while. It allowed him some privacy. Maybe not forever, but long enough for him to take care of things.

 

He had already heard Eobard searching close to his hiding spot. It was only a matter of time before Eobard found him. Barry would be punished, again. Maybe he’d get lucky, and Eobard would kill him this time, but Barry doubted it. He wanted Barry alive, afraid, and broken. Because Barry was supposed to be the Flash, and he wasn’t.

 

The Flash was a speedster like Eobard, only a hero instead of a monster. But instead Barry had gotten wings, and Eobard hated him for it. The few times Barry had been able to fly, it was incredible. But most of the time it was simply another weakness. His wings could be plucked, ripped, and broken easily. They were useless, just like the rest of him.

 

If Barry wanted fortune, he was going to have to make his own. He was going to have to take this knife in his hands and plunge it into his heart. Then he’d never have to worry about Eobard and his games again.

 

Barry didn’t want to slowly bleed out, even if he was basically numb to most pain these days. Eobard could find him and keep him alive. So a fast death was going to be his best option.

 

Barry had been a CSI. He could end things quickly, even without something as effective as the steak knife he held in his hands. It was the only way to save himself.

 

He just needed his hand to stop shaking first. Barry wasn’t sure he could jam the knife into his chest accurately or with enough force to get past his ribcage when his hands were so unsteady. So Barry focused on his hands, willing them to keep the knife pricked against his chest still enough to push it in.

 

It left him so foolishly open that he didn’t realize when someone came into the warehouse with him. Barry didn’t notice anything amiss, not until someone grabbed his wrist painfully tight.

 

The knife clattered to the floor, shock and pain clouding Barry’s judgement as well as his fingers' strength. Barry tried to jerk toward it, to grab the knife again. Eobard found him, and he was going to put him back in the pipeline. He couldn’t beat Eobard’s speed, but maybe he surprised him enough it wouldn’t matter. Barry only needed one shot.

 

But he wasn’t fast enough. He was thrown on his back, away from the knife. The force knocked his breath from him completely, but it was his wings that took the brunt of the hit. It hurt in a deep, visceral way he’d almost managed to forget since he’d escaped.

 

“No!” Barry screamed at the figure above him. His eyes were screwed tightly closed, unwilling to see his tormentors face again. “I’m not going back with you. Get off me! Fuck… I’m not going. You’re going to have to kill me.”

 

He was wriggling, writhing as much as he could in Eobard’s grasp even though it was hurting him more. His wings were in agony. Fuck, why hadn’t Barry taken his chance?

 

“Calm down!” An angry voice growled, one that was decidedly not Eobard. His eyes flew open and met with an unfamiliar, very agitated face. This man, whoever he was, was keeping Barry down with only the force of his larger form.

 

Barry fought harder, ignoring his words. He was screaming wordlessly as he tried to force his way out of the hold keeping him on the ground. If he could only get away, then Barry could follow through on his plan. The knife was still so close. He could almost reach it.

 

“For fucks sakes kid. You have goddamn wings, so if anyone at this point should be freaking out it’s definitely me,” the man groused. “I’m not going to hurt you, and I don’t wanna have to clean up the mess if you die in my safehouse either. So if you stop fucking fighting me, I’ll let up.”

 

He froze completely at the words. Barry wasn’t naive enough to actually believe them. Eobard had showed him, time and time again, how foolish it was to trust promises that sounded as sweet as that one. But maybe the man would take his sign of submission. If he let Barry have some space, and he could use it to grab the knife. His hands weren’t shaking anymore.

 

The man sighed, adjusting his hold on Barry enough to ease the pressure on his bruised, aching back and wings, but not enough for him to get away. The man actually looked mildly apologetic at the distressed whine it caused Barry, but he still didn’t back off enough to do Barry any good.

 

“Smart move. Now, you’re going to tell me what the hell you’re doing in here, and why exactly you are so keen on dying,” the man ordered.

 

He could feel his face fall at that request. Barry couldn’t play along, not with that. The information he wanted was too dangerous. Eobard was rich, and had too many resources for Barry to tell a criminal who he was. Eobard was tearing up the city to find him, and he was sure Eobard would offer him a reward to get Barry back. He was also sure that Eobard would kill him instead of paying, but Barry couldn’t trust this man was smart enough believe it.

 

“I don’t even know who you are. Why should I trust you?” Barry coughed as his voice strained to form his words. He hadn’t said anything in days.

 

Surprisingly, the man smiled at his question. It was a grim look, but something about it settled Barry anyways. It was the first time he’d seen someone smile for anything besides Barry’s pain in a long time.

 

“Leonard Snart. Now who the fuck are you?”

 

“I’m supposed to be the Flash,” Barry told him. It wasn’t quite his name, but it was all that mattered about him anymore. Plus, if Leonard didn’t know who Barry was, then he couldn’t trace anything back to his family.

 

“What is a Flash?” Leonard was frowning at him now, shifting his stance above Barry to tighten his hold while his confusion mounted. Barry wished he wouldn’t. He’d like the man’s - Leonard’s - smile. It was the first truly beautiful thing he’d seen since he was taken by Eobard.

 

“The Flash, I think. Not a Flash. I’m not really sure. It’s just what he told me.” Barry wasn’t sure why he was bothering to explain.

 

Leonard couldn’t hold him like this forever, and now that he was no longer struggling to get away, he realized what was probably going to happen. Unless he gave the man a reason, Leonard would probably kill him for invading his safe house. Then Barry wouldn’t have to worry about reaching the knife.

 

“Who’s he?”

 

Barry froze at the question. He was so stupid sometimes. Eobard was right. Barry shouldn’t have said that. He just let a criminal find out that someone was looking for him. Leonard could probably find out pretty easily from there it was Eobard who wanted him. After all, it’s not like there was likely to be more than one missing boy with wings.

 

There was no way out of this, not now. “I’m… not really sure. He calls himself Eobard, but no one else does. Except me. I always had to call him Eobard, or he’d punish me.”

 

Leonard’s scowl deepened at his words, and Barry shrank into the concrete flooring under him. He could feel feathers being ripped out from under him as they were pushed into the concrete below him, but Barry couldn’t help it. Leonard was stronger than him, and growing steadily more angry, and he just didn’t want to hurt anymore.

 

“And _Eobard_ is why you want to die?”

 

“It’s not about dying. It’s about ending the pain.” Barry had to close his eyes again as he spoke. He was being too honest and far too weak. But something inside him had to confess. Leonard, despite his gruff nature, hadn’t actually hurt him yet beyond keeping him immobile, and Barry so very tired. He just wanted someone to understand.

 

“What pain?” Leonard asked him.

 

Barry shook his head. He might be talking far more than he should, but he couldn’t say that. Barry didn’t want to think about it anymore. “I’m not allowed to talk about it.”

 

The man really didn’t like that either. His whole body tensed over Barry as his grip on Barry’s wrist tightened back until it hurt once more. Unlike when Eobard held him down, Leonard eased back off the second he heard Barry’s pained whimper with a flicker of what Barry thought might have been regret.

 

“You’re probably not supposed to be here either, are you?” Leonard prompted.

 

Barry tested Leonard’s hold again, wriggling beneath the criminal’s solid form. He even tried using his wings, which had surprised Eobard enough to displace him the first few times he’d tried it. It did about as much good as it before, meaning it had absolutely no effect. He tried not to pout too much, but he had a feeling it wasn’t successfully. Leonard’s eyes were twinkling with something too close to amusement.

 

He shook his head aggressively. “I’m not going back.”

 

“No, you’re not. I may be a criminal, but I have a certain… code. One that covers innocents not getting hurt, and there’s no way in hell with eyes like that you don’t qualify,” Leonard explained to him.

 

The man’s voice was still calm and collected in a way that was slowly settling him. Despite the fact Barry was still immobilized, Leonard wasn’t trying to hurt him. The criminal had all the power, and he had plenty of time to hurt Barry. Instead, all he was doing was keeping Barry from hurting himself.

 

It was calming, right until he realized exactly what Leonard had said. Barry could actually feel himself flushing.

 

“Eyes like… are you seriously hitting on me right now?”

 

“Not at the moment, but if you want stick around we can change that,” Leonard assured him. “Only if you’d like, of course. Despite the fact I straddled you for our first meeting, I usually am a gentleman.”

 

Barry snorted, completely unconvinced. Leonard ignored him in favor of actually answering his question instead of continuing to flirt. “I meant the fact you’re obviously still considering hurting yourself if I let you get that knife again, but not me. It’s not something most people do when they’re trapped like this.”

 

He didn’t know how he felt that. Sticking around, the fact Leonard already knew Barry wasn’t going to hurt anyone else, or his assurances he was waiting to hit on him. Especially since it really felt like Leonard was hitting on him now.

 

Barry found he minded the attention a lot less than he should.

 

“How do you know?” Barry asked him. It was a far better idea than letting his thoughts wonder.

 

“That you’re not trying to kill me?” Leonard smiled at him again when Barry nodded.

 

He then did the most surprising thing out of Barry’s already unusual evening. He shifted off of Barry, quickly grabbing the knife, but making no move to use it. He was simply keeping it away from Barry.

 

Barry couldn’t get it from him, not with that grip, and definitely not without potentially hurting the man. Not knowing what else to do, Barry simply sat up, pulling his knees in towards his chest as though he could hide his embarrassment and confusion behind shaking knees.

 

Leonard huffed, seemingly frustrated that Barry had gone mute. “I know that look in your eyes. Seen it a lot, and been there a few times myself. I’m not gonna let you hurt yourself, kid, but if you want to let me I can help you.”

 

It was… unbelievable. Leonard was offering everything Barry had been hoping for since the moment he’d woken up in the STAR Labs pipeline. Someone to help keep him safe and from being alone. Barry only wished it was actually possible, or that Leonard hadn’t been kind enough for him to ignore the threat anyways. It would’ve been nice to have some company before he died.

 

“Nobody can help me. The Man in Yellow is coming for me, and he’s never going to stop.”

 

At his word, Leonard’s hands returned to Barry’s wrist. He would have jerked it away if he wasn’t frozen in terror. Leonard had started to rub it almost immediately in small circles, but it took Barry a moment to remember why he would do something like that. He was trying to comfort Barry. His mom used to do the same thing after he had a nightmare.

 

“You mean that speed freak.” Leonard wasn’t asking for a confirmation, despite the fact that his words sounded like he should have been. He knew who Eobard was, and worse, he didn’t sound afraid.

 

Barry decided to confirm it anyways in hopes that Leonard would listen. “Yeah.”

 

“Then you are really lucky, because I’m the only person in Central City who can actually slow that bastard down,” Leonard informed him with a pleased little smirk.

 

“That’s not possible,” argued Barry.

 

Eobard was the fastest man alive. Nothing could stand against his speed, not even pretty criminals with weirdly charming smiles. Barry didn’t want Leonard to be hurt the same way he was. He didn’t want anyone to go through what he had.

 

“It is if you have possession of a gun that shoots absolute zero, which I do,” Leonard informed him. His smirk was downright predatory, and for the first time since he’d been taken, Barry had hope. Cold was the opposite of speed, so if anything could stop him, it’d be that gun.

 

“Really?” He had to ask. Had to make sure this wasn’t a cruel joke.

 

Leonard was smiling at him again, sweetly and without the cruel edge he’d seen when Leonard first found him. “Really kid. That bastard has been getting in my way for months, you know. If he’s the one making a sweet little thing like you so scared, then I guess me and my Rogues finally have a reason to put him down.”

 

“But you don’t even know me,” Barry reminded Leonard.

 

“I know you’re a nice kid in serious trouble, and that some douchebag thinks he had the right to hurt you because you’re not what he wants you to be. It’s enough for me, and it’ll be for my team too. It would be nice if we had something to call you other than ‘not-the-Flash’ though.”

 

Everything about this was a risk. Trusting Leonard to protect him, and that he - his Rogues - would even be able to. Barry hadn’t trusted anyone in a long time. Eobard taught him better.

 

But he was tired of Eobard’s lessons. Wasn’t that the whole point of trying to kill himself?

 

Before the Pipeline, Barry had been - sometimes stupidly - brave. He loved his life, and his family, and trying new things. That’s who he used to be. It’s who he wanted to be again.

 

So he unfurled, held out his hand, and took a risk.

 

“I’m Barry.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think either here or on my Tumblr, theoriginalicecreamqueen.


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